Amethyst Edges
by xSakuraBlossom
Summary: Written in 1st person present tense. Assume they're in high school or college. Ryoma is thinking about someone, and about the pain that cannot be expressed. WARNING: ANGST AND MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH! Written for suna90, who requested a jealous!Ryoma angst.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own PoT. End of story.

A/N1: This is for suna90, who has been a huge supporter! (And yes, I wrote and posted it the day I replied to your review ^^) She wanted to read an angsty jealous!Ryoma fic, so here you go! WARNING: very, very angsty. Perhaps more so than suna90 wanted… sorry! …Also, this is in first person, and present tense… which may gain me many flames. Ah well.

Amethyst Edges

Your amethyst eyes have always mesmerized me. Ever since the first day. They sparkle with a beautiful light, more bright than the sun, more captivating than any diamond. Your eyes… they often make me wonder if you could possibly be an angel. If you are an angel, I then have to wonder if it's a sin to love one. And if it's a sin to hate the person that an angel loves.

Because recently, that amethyst glimmer has disappeared from my life, that amethyst glimmer that used to be so constant. We used to spend so much time together, you know. So much time. There were the practices, the lunches, the afterschool runs to some fast food place, where we would compete to see who could eat more. And now…

You never pick me up in the mornings anymore, yelling "We're going to be late!" You never look at me during practice, and even when you do, you have a distracted look on your face, as though you'd rather be elsewhere. And I know exactly where you want to be. Somehow, that just makes it worse.

You don't eat lunch with me anymore, because you're spending time with her. You don't see her during school, since she goes to a different one, so instead you see her during all your free time. That led to the loss of afterschool runs to fast food places, as well.

Heck, she takes up all your time now. All of it. I talked to Eiji the other day, and even he says that he doesn't see you much anymore. So I guess it's not just me that you're avoiding. But does that make it better, that you don't hate me in particular? Or does it make it worse, because it's just another testimony to how much you love her? I really don't know.

I really loved you, you know. I really did. I still do. But I don't know how much more of this I can take. You love her. And I know that. I see it every time I mistakenly glance over at you and her, talking together. I see it every time you talk about her. I see it every time you _think_ about her. Which is all the time now. Because you're always thinking about her.

And every time I see you with that look on your face, some part of me dies. It doesn't quite shrivel and dry up and die. It gets stabbed, bleeding from a thousand wounds caused by the sharp amethysts that your eyes have become.

To be fair, your eyes haven't become sharper. Really, it's not your fault. No, it's just that I've become weaker. Your loving look is the blade, stabbing my heart every time I see it. And the pain is killing me. Not knowing how to express this pain is killing me. Because nobody knows how much I love you, and I can't tell them, for fear they would tell you. And that would just ruin your relationship, make you unhappy. And that's what I would hate, most of all.

But I can't live with it. I just can't. The pain will drive me mad. I don't want that either. I want to find some way to express my pain.

So here I am, staring at this knife in front of me. If I stare at it in just the right way, it takes on a purple sheen- just like your eyes. I was meant to be chopping vegetables. I guess Dad will be mad if I don't cut them all up. But it seems like such a waste to use something so similar to your eyes just to chop vegetables. Your eyes should only be for me.

On a whim, I grab the knife. I run it over my skin, shivering at the feel of the slightly damp blade. Your eyes, on my skin. I close my eyes as I run the knife over my face. Your eyes, on my lips. Gently, I kiss the flat of the knife, tasting just a hint of the metal. My lips, kissing your eyes.

I bring it lower, back down to my wrist. I run it over my hand. My hand, touching your eyes. I suddenly realize that I am aroused. How many times have I imagined you with me, instead of her?

I shiver involuntarily. Belatedly, I realize that I've cut my wrist with the blade, thanks to my careless move. But although my wrist is stinging, the pain in my heart is a little less. The pain in my wrist reminds me of the pain that's in my heart. Perhaps, if I feel the pain on my body, then the pain in my soul will go away.

Experimentally, I cut again, a little deeper. Yes, the pain in my heart is less. If the amethyst eyes are stabbing my skin, they cannot be stabbing my heart.

Elated that I've finally found a way to stop my heart from hurting, I start stabbing deeper, again and again. I move from my wrists to my forearms, then to my shoulder. I stab many times, all over myself, loving the feeling of the amethyst edge digging into my skin, loving the lack of pain in my heart. I stab again, this time in the chest, deeper than ever before.

The pain disappears.

*** Owari ***

A/N2: OMG, this is so incredibly angsty! I had an idea where it was going, but I never expected it to turn out this dark! He seems a bit crazy near the end… and he probably is. *cries* Ahhh, it's so dark! I'm writing quite a bit of dark stuff recently… I don't like it! If this is terrible, please say so! And oh god, so very angsty! ARRGH! *sniff* Well, whether you love it or hate it, please review anyways! … pretty please?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own PoT. Ok? Gots it? Good.

A/N: This is what happens when the regulars find out about Ryoma's death.

The regulars glanced nervously at each other, then back at the police officer that had sat down before them. They still had no idea why they had been called down to the precinct, and there was something else bothering them as well.

Where was Ryoma?

The police officer cleared his throat, and all the regulars snapped to attention. They stared at him, still anxious about the situation.

"You are all acquainted with one Echizen Ryoma, correct?" The change in the room was almost imperceptible- muscles tensed, eyes widened or narrowed, and there was a sudden feeling of tension and hostility towards the police officer. They didn't know what was going on, but they did know that if anything happened to their youngest link, they would fight for him.

The officer swallowed. He could feel the tension in the room, and he didn't like it. But he bravely continued anyways. "We have called you here today for a very specific reason. But first, we need to tell you the situation."

"Echizen Ryoma is dead."

Silence fell upon the room, cloaking it heavily. Nobody spoke for several moments, trying to comprehend what had just been said. How could Ryoma be dead? He had always been such an… alive boy, somehow. Even though he was often apathetic about many things, he always seemed to be there. And when he played tennis, his true passion showed. He couldn't possibly be dead- not their little 'rookie' (granted, no longer a rookie, but still called as such by the rest of the team).

The silence was broken when the police officer cleared his throat again, nervously trying to gain everyone's attention. He said slowly, "You must be grieving his death now. I apologize for telling you so abruptly. But there is a rather urgent matter that must be dealt with, and it concerns the manner of his death."

"From the crime scene and the postmortem autopsy, it appears that Echizen suicided, stabbing himself multiple times before finally cutting into his heart. What we need to know is if he had any reason to do so. Had any of you noticed anything strange about Echizen over the past few weeks?"

Eiji and Oishi glanced at each other, eyes widening in shock. Kawamura frowned, evidently thinking back. Inui whipped out a notebook and flipped back several pages, with Kaidoh looking intently over his shoulder. Tezuka shoved his glasses up, looking a bit unsettled. Fuji's eyes opened, looking regretful and extremely sad.

Momoshiro decided to speak. Frowning, he commented, "I don't think I've noticed anything different about him, actually. He was acting perfectly normal, from what I saw of him anyways. Which reminds me, I actually didn't see him much since I started dating Ann. For that matter, I haven't seen any of you that much. Have you been avoiding me?" he mused out loud, then went back to the subject. "Anyways, I don't think he had any reason for suicide at all." He lapsed into silence, furrowing his brow as he reflected on the past few months. The police officer nodded absently, then stiffened as he felt an ominous chill.

Momo, lost in thought, didn't notice Fuji until it was too late. The crack of the slap filled the small room, making everyone wince. Momo's head snapped sideways with the force of the blow, and shaking, he lifted a hand to his cheek, feeling the bruise that was spreading there. "What the hell, Fuji!" he yelled, glaring at the shorter boy.

In a voice that none of them had ever heard before, Fuji snarled, "You're so fucking stupid. Wake up, Momoshiro!" The statement was followed by another blow, this time from the other side. "You thought he was acting normal? You didn't notice anything? When the one that made him change was _you_? And you think that we've been avoiding you? How can you say such a thing when _you've_ been avoiding _us_?" Fuji's voice was so venomous, Momo flinched back.

But something Fuji said made Momo think. "What do you mean, I was the one that made him change? I haven't seen him much at all! How can you accuse me of that?" he shot back.

Fuji just gaped at him. He was so shocked he couldn't speak for a moment, and Momo thought that perhaps he had won. Fuji was just empty words. He didn't have any proof.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!" Fuji roared, and Momo jumped. None of them had ever seen Fuji mad before, not like this. And everyone was scared of Fuji now. The way he was standing, the way his eyes were narrowed, the way his eyes were sparking, everything was terrifying. And it was all directed at Momo.

"You can't mean that you didn't notice." Fuji's voice was suddenly quiet, but all the more intense for that. The difference was like that of a raging fire and a single laser point. The fire destroyed everything around it, but the laser struck with unerring accuracy at the thing it wanted to destroy.

Momo shook his head. "There wasn't anything to notice," he replied stubbornly.

Fuji took a slow step forwards, and Momo took a step back. As Fuji continued to advance, he spoke, still in that quietly intense voice. "You didn't notice that you were spending all your time with Ann? You didn't notice that we were all feeling neglected by you, but decided to give you some time because you obviously liked her?"

Momo was still shaking his head, but the movement seemed weak somehow, like he knew that he was wrong but was protesting for the sake of protesting.

Fuji finally said, "And do you know who took your absensed the hardest? Do you know who's been putting on a brave face, so that nobody would worry about him? Do you know who kept his true feelings to himself, because he knew it would hurt you to know?" Momo suddenly had a terrible feeling in his chest, as though he knew what the answer would be.

"Echizen Ryoma."

Momo's mouth opened. He couldn't believe it. "No, you're wrong, Fuji. I would have noticed such a thing," he said, but his voice had no conviction.

Fuji hissed back, "Would you have? He tried his best to hide his feelings. He didn't want to destroy the relationship you were enjoying with Ann. It must have killed him to watch you ditch him, ditch all of us, for Ann. And yet, despite that, he was always watching you. Every time he looked at you, the pain in his eyes was so tangible I could feel it cutting into me. But he never told anyone his pain. Instead, he kept his feelings bottled up within him, eating at him until at last they killed him.

Momo staggered a final step back, and found himself against the wall. His mouth opened, trying to speak, trying to argue that it couldn't be true, but nothing came out. Finally, he croaked, "How did you notice, then? If he was trying to hide it so well."

Suddenly, Fuji's eyes changed. They had gone from their normal blue to a fiery blue to a blue laser, and now they were blue wells of tears. "Why else," he whispered. His voice was so quiet they could barely hear the words, yet the emotion behind them was all the more evident for that. "Because I've been watching him as closely as he watched you."

Eyes bright with unshed tears, Fuji brushed past Momo and fled the room. Momo watched him go, still feeling stunned. How much had he missed out upon? What other things had happened that he hadn't seen, while caught up in his relationship?

He glanced around the room. Whenever he'd fucked up before, they'd always accepted him back, after he apologized. Quietly, he said, "I'm sorry. Sorry that I didn't hang out with you guys as much as I used to. I'm sorry that I ditched my friends for my girlfriend. And… I'm sorry that I didn't notice Ryoma's dilemma, and didn't try to stop it. I… I'm really sorry…" He bowed his head, waiting for their acceptance of his apology.

But instead, he heard the sound of chairs scraping against the floor. He looked up, and saw Eiji and Oishi standing. Eiji looked regretful, but determined. He walked past Momo, towards the door. He paused in the doorway, and without turning back, he whispered, "Sorry won't bring O'Chibi back." He hadn't called Ryoma that since Junior High. And now, he never would again.

Oishi followed him. One by one, the other regulars stood and left the room, leaving Momo alone. He was shocked. He'd always been accepted back before, no matter what he had done. No matter how stupid he'd been, he had always regretted it and apologized, and they took him back as though nothing had happened. So why had they left him now?

His legs collapsed beneath him, and he slid to the ground. Dimly, he heard the door open one last time. So, even the policeman had left now. He was truly and completely alone.

He hugged his knees to his chest and started to rock back and forth, tears streaming from his eyes. As he wept, he whispered words to the one person that would never hear them.

"I'm sorry, Ryoma, I'm so sorry…"

*** Owari ***

A/N: Oh, god, so angsty… I really need to stop writing angst. For that matter, I need to stop writing for a while, I spend way too much time in front of the computer. My eyesight's getting worse because of it. Also, I'm sick and incredibly tired right now, so I'm having trouble staying upright while sitting in front of the computer…

Ok, my little rant is over. Well, I do need to stop writing angst. And I am sick. But anyways, hope you liked this! (Or not, considering how dark it was… ) R&R please!


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